


25 To Life

by MamaSpider



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Jake has a prosthetic leg, Jake's Native American, Mohawk Jake, Multi, Murder, Mystery, Native jake, Not really a shippy fic, fucking fite me, no one asked for this, slow burn?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 15:03:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16704775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamaSpider/pseuds/MamaSpider
Summary: "First degree murder convictions draw a range of prison sentences. This can include life in prison, usually with an eventual possibility of parole. The range of prison sentence for this type of murder conviction can be 25 years to life."Jake Dillinger's parents were killed. Murder. Evidence points to first degree. Jake seems to be on top of the world.And he doesn't have an Alibi.





	25 To Life

February 24th, 2:32am.

Rich awoke with a start as he heard the front door get beat on. He stiffened up and looked at his alarm clock. His dad must've been back from wherever he went to get blackout wasted. He knew what that meant.

He got mentally prepared, taking a deep breath and making sure none of his teeth felt loose. He made his way down the stairs and opened the door, ready for a faceful of booze breath and a smack. He jolted in surprise at what was waiting for him.

"Hi Rich," came Jake's chipper voice.

The tall jock stood with his weight on his left side. He still suffered a limp, seen by the mangled right pant cuff. He looked a little worse for wear, clothing ruffled and seemingly tossed on. His shirt was on backwards and he lacked his trademark red jacket. He had a somewhat off smile on his lips and he was breathing a bit heavily. Like he had just run a marathon. His shoes were brand new. Highlighter yellow. Obnoxious but consistent with his style.

He was freshly showered, a detail not unnoticed by Rich. He felt his heart skip a beat at seeing Jake's clumpy damp hair. It made him so much cuter than normal.

Rich opened the door all the way and just smiled back. He leaned up on the balls of his feet, excited and relieved to see his best friend.

"Dude, you're back? Since when?" He asked, stepping aside for his best bro.

Jake nodded and walked in, limp obvious. He rolled his shoulders back and rubbed his arms, cold.

"Earlier. Got off the plane, dropped my stuff off and relaxed a bit. Pappy was asleep, so I came over. You're dad's out, right?"

Jake started to climb up the stairs, speaking quickly. Rich closed the door and he grew a bit wary. He followed behind Jake, lagging a bit. He was greatful that Jaxxen liked to take sleep aids. He at least wouldn't be up any time soon.

"I mean, right now he is. I have no idea where he's been, though. He might come back, are you sure we can't just go to your place?"

"You're dad'll be out til tomorrow, let's be real," Jake giggled, swinging Rich's bedroom door open. "I just wanted to see my best bud."

Rich smiled a bit softer, still worried his dad would come over. That wouldn't end well for anyone. Jax would more than likely point out that Jake was "that Indian kid" Rich hung out with. He wanted to burn the Confederate flag that hung above the office door and smear the ashes on his brother and dad's faces. Show them the right way to treat other humans.

Jake flopped onto Rich's bed, taking deep breaths. He was worn out, tired. Rich could see it all over Jake's face. He sat beside the 6'9 pillar of jock, smirking a bit.

"Did you run all the way here?" He teased. "Jump a few skyscrapers?"

Jake smiled like a dork and shrugged.

"Sang the whole way too."

The two shared a laugh and Rich yawned. He cracked his neck and nodded, looking again at the clock.

"Well, time to just pass out," he decided.

"Aw, what?" Jake whined, rolling over so he was on a proper side of the bed.

"Dude, it's like 3am. I need sleep. Not my fault you went from New York straight to me,"

Jake pouted and tilted his head, trying to seem more like a puppy. Rich rolled his eyes and got under the covers.

He stretched and yawned again, laying on his side. He faced Jake and pat his cheek. Platonic. No homo. Don't make it weird.

"Go to bed, you big baby. The jet lag is gonna kick your ass."

Jake huffed playfully and got under the covers. Rich retracted his hand and rolled over, closing his eyes. He felt Jake shift around a bit more, drifting off.

He popped his eyes open as he felt Jake snuggle up to him. The hot breath on the back of Rich's neck made his heart race. He held his breath as he felt Jake slowly snake an arm around his torso and relax. Platonic, they did this all the time. Jake wasn't making a move. He never was, Rich knew that. But then why wouldn't his heart take the hint? Why did Jake have to smell so strongly of coconutty goodness?

"Hey, Rich?" Jake asked, a whisper.

"Hm?" Rich hummed, trying not to sound like a crushing schoolboy.

"If anyone asks," Jake's voice was low, rumbly. As if he were telling a secret. "I was here with you since my plane landed. Okay?"

Rich took in a long, lovesick breath. He nodded, relaxing. He felt Jake pull him closer and he was absolutely flushed red. Jake was cuddling him. Cuddling. His brain felt fuzzy and his chest was giggly.

"Thanks, Richie. Goodnight."

And with that, Jake let the exhaustion win. He drifted off and very softly snored, still holding Rich close.

Rich held Jake's arm close, savoring the moment. At least he had his dreams. Where his hopeless pining was more than just swept aside and bottled up. Where his best friend loved him back.

The night was silent. And somewhere not to far off, Buck Goranski was passed out against his truck. He had been too drunk to fix his vehicle, unable to see what was wrong with it.

When he came to, surely he'd notice the breaks had been taken out and the ignition was sabotaged.


End file.
